Loose Bolt
by Trixxification
Summary: Sharon and Brenda try to forget each other at their new jobs.
1. Chapter 1

_Written for the following prompt on Tumblr:_

_"I'm a loose bolt in a complete machine, what a match, I'm half doomed and you're semi sweet" ('Disloyal' Fall Out Boy)._

Sharon sighed as she slumped down at Brenda's – no, HER - desk. When would she ever get used to it? The blonde had left, gotten in to bed with the DA's office, yet her (she'd always think of the Major Crimes division as Brenda's) squad still believed she hung the moon in the sky. Another sigh wrecked through her body. She herself was only trying to save the city money, working on deals with the DA's office – yet Brenda's squad still believed she rode in to work every day on a broomstick. She winced, _well, at least parking wouldn't be an issue_, she thought.

The brunette watched through her office window as Lieutenant Tao listened intently to Buzz, some new contraption the latter obviously bought for show-and-tell sitting between them. A sudden clanging noise rang throughout the murder room, and Sharon watched as Buzz's device fell apart. A lone bolt rolled under her door. Buzz gathered the pieces, and in less than a minute his latest gadget was back up and running.

She frowned. _He got the doo-flunky working again without the bolt on my floor?_ She grimaced. _Of course. _Some higher power had to give her insight in to her situation at this precise moment. The bolt glinted with the midday sun shining in to the office. _That's it, _she thought, _Major Crimes is a well-oiled, complete machine, and I'm a loose bolt – surplus to requirements._

* * *

_Sugar and spice, and all things nice. _That's what her Daddy always said. Little girls, especially _his _little girl, were made of sweetness and light, hope and love, smiles and sunshine. The blonde certainly didn't feel like it today. She'd heard through the grapevine that _that woman _was taking over Major Crimes. She wasn't jealous. Not _really. _Well, maybe a little. She was surprised to find it wasn't Sharon she was jealous of. Her squad – no, Sharon's squad – got to work with the wicked witch. They got to spend hours upon hours every day in her presence, being ordered around, having the privilege to see those never-ending legs sashaying away under tight office skirts and above perfectly matched Manahlo Blahniks.

_No. Not anymore. _The DA's office was a fresh start. She could ignore her feelings for the woman and focus on the man she was supposed to want to spend the rest of her life with. _Semi-sweet. _Maybe she could stay sweet for her Daddy's sake – well, at least on the outside. If she learned nothing else from her time with the CIA, it was how to live a double life.

* * *

_Doomed. _That's how the brunette felt. _Well, _she thought, _maybe only _half _doomed. _She ran her fingers through her textured hair. Of course she had to fall for a straight woman. No, not just a straight woman. A straight _married _woman who was her superior officer who wore heinous florals and flouncy skirts and ate too much candy and was pig-headed and frustrating and _just. So. Perfect. _At least, in Sharon's eyes. When she and her husband separated she'd promised herself she'd find the woman of her dreams. She wouldn't let points 2357-9 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church tell her not to be happy. That's why she got married in the first place – her husband and herself not wanting to live the chaste life the CCC apparently called them to, so in a desperate attempt to 'fake it 'til you make it' her husband and herself decided to marry. How on earth they'd managed to have enough sex to create their children she had _no idea._

She nursed her large glass of merlot. Normally, a nice chardonnay or a serving of Vieve Cleico would be her choice of poison. But no, not today. _What would Brenda do? _Her thoughts always drifted to the Blonde, _How would Brenda cope with feeling this way? _The answer, of course, was a ding-dong and a glass of merlot. Sharon had given up on ding-dongs almost thirty years ago – she sniggered at her double entendre. Merlot it was. The answer to her problems was sitting somewhere at the bottom of the bottle she'd just opened.

The bottle sat empty somewhere on the floor, her glass long-forgotten as she sipped on strong, black coffee and downed two Aspirin. She was going to need them. Nursing her mug, she laid back against the couch, her feet crossed on top of the coffee table. _That's what Brenda would do. She wouldn't care about how unbecoming or unhygienic it was. _Her cell phone beeped again from the bench, but Sharon was too comfortable and - if she was being honest - probably a little too drunk to pick it up. _If it was important they'd call, _she decided.

_Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-ding-ding-dong, _the doorbell sounded. With an exasperated huff Sharon stood up from the couch. Too quickly. She winced as her head pounded and placed her hands on her temples while she waited to regain her balance. The brunette walked, as best as she was able given her inebriation, and checked to see who was at the door.

* * *

The blonde swung by the gas-station. Sure, Sharon liked the finer things in life, but Brenda was damned if she could think of a florists open at 2am. _No, cheap is going to have to do. But really, what would anyone expect of me anyhow? _After paying, she drove her car to Sharon's street and parked outside the apartment building. _Shoot. _She hadn't thought of the fact that she would have to ring the intercom to let Sharon buzz her in to the building. _So much for suprisin' her. _Handbag slumped over her shoulder, she pulled out the badge she had 'lost' and therefore never returned. Picking a first floor apartment, she buzzed the householder.

"What?"

M'am, look out your window please. My name is Brenda Leigh Johnson, I'm with the LAPD. If you look out your window you can see I'm holdin' my badge up for you. Would you please buzz me in?" Brenda scanned the first floor, but couldn't see any curtains being opened.

"Whatever. Do what you like." The doors to the complex swung open. _Well, no wonder I've investigated so many murders in this city. People lettin' people in willy-nilly._

"Thank you, m'am. Thank you _so _much".

A blonde woman was standing outside her door, clutching flowers. She caught a glimpse of warm, brown eyes. Maybe, just maybe, she could be the missing bolt for Brenda-Leigh.


	2. Chapter 2

"Would you like another glass of wine, Brenda?" Sharon asked, although she already knew the answer. "You know, you didn't have to bring me flowers to convince me to let you stay here tonight. I know how painful separating from your husband is".

Brenda bit her bottom lip. Her Mama always told her not to lie, but she couldn't bring herself to tell the brunette that in actual fact she'd come over to fuck her brains out. _And to fuck her out of my brain, _if she was being completely honest.

Brenda shook her head and took a sip of the wine. "I'm not bein' separated, Sharon, I'm gettin' divorced. I just can't be with him any more."

Sharon raised her eyebrows. "And why is that?"

"I don't love him like he deserves. And there's no way I'm givin' up my career to stay at home with his kids," she explained with a shrug. "It's just not fair. I know you want me, though. I'm all yours tonight. What would you like to do?"

_I don't know. Maybe bend you over that bench and fuck you senseless?_

Sharon swallowed hard before looking back at the younger woman. "I was thinking we could order in some food-"

"Thai? Oh! Could we get Happy Family?"

"Of course," Sharon chuckled. "We could watch some TV, too, and get you caught up on how your squad's _really_ doing without you."

"Sounds good. But, y'know they're _your _squad now."

The brunette offered a soft smile "Not yet, Brenda. They're still pretty in love with the chief – no room for the captain. Not yet, anyway."

The blonde stood and circled her arms around the captain's waist, before pressing a brief kiss to her cheek. "Well I for one am glad you're my captain Sharon."

Sharon closed her eyes as she breathed in Brenda's scent, a smile gracing her lips as she recalled the incident that gave her the nickname. "I'm glad we've sorted our differences."

Brenda released her and retrieved her cell phone. She dialled her favourite Thai restaurant, ordering from memory all her favourites.

In the kitchen, Sharon opened another bottle of wine, then headed to the living room. She settled on the couch and waited for Brenda to join her.

* * *

"So, Fritz called me up when I was on my way over here, freakin' out," Brenda said, continuing her story. "He couldn't find Joel anywhere and tried convincin' me that I should come home 'cause he obviously misses his Mommy".

"Ah, the old 'for the sake of the children' argument. Well, 'cat' in your case I suppose. My husband never tried that, I guess because that's the reason we stayed married in the first place," Sharon commented.

Brenda grinned, "I know it's only 'cause he misses me being home at night. But I don't care about that, I'm here with you."

_He's not the only one that misses you when you're gone._ The brunette decided it was time to call her bluff. "Why are you really here, Brenda? You don't bring flowers to a girl's house if you want to stay the night – unless you're courting said girl. And, let's face it, you and I are not dating. And you're married. You might think you're a hot-shot ex-CIA liar, but I can see the wedding rings are still on your finger. What's going on?"

"D'you want the truth?"

"Yes." Sharon clasped her hands in her lap. "Tell me the real reason you're here."

Brenda grabbed her drink and downed the rest of the glass, seeking courage from the liquid and buying time to gather her thoughts. "I think I might need a little more liquid courage. Actually, do you have any ding-dongs?"

Sharon ignored her question, her heart pounding as she waited for Brenda to take it all back, to let her know it was all a big mistake to come here- a wine-fuelled, broken-hearted mistake that wouldn't go any further.

"My favourite smell is vanilla," Brenda explained. She reached up to caress Sharon's cheek. "You smell like vanilla. Fritz doesn't."

_I should know not to expect a straight answer from Brenda. _Sharon grinned before lowering her mouth to Brenda's. She pushed Brenda back towards the couch, perching over her. Her tongue thrusting deeper in to the blonde's mouth, trying to convey her emotions. As she pulled away for air, the blonde spoke up.

"Shar, wait," Brenda panted, pushing at Sharon's shoulders. The blonde lifted her head to look at the older woman. "I need to say somethin'."

"Okay, go ahead," Sharon sighed, sitting herself on the armrest of the couch.

"How long have you wanted this?"

Sharon closed her eyes. "Truthfully? Since the first crime scene. Morbid, I know. I just wanted to hate-fuck you for pulling rank."

The blonde nodded "And now do you have feelin's for me?"

"Honestly? I do, I'm just not sure how deep they are," Sharon admitted. "I know I like you as more than a friend. And I know that you're straight and you're mar-"

Brenda kissed her gently to stop her from talking. "We can have tonight. I know I said I was gettin' divorced but I don't know if I can do it to him, Shar. He's one of the good ones. So, tonight. We can have tonight. Then we can forget. "

"It's all I need," Sharon lied before capturing Brenda's lips once again.

* * *

When Brenda awoke the next morning, she could feel a heavy presence in the bed next to her. She turned to find Sharon admiring her figure, a smug smile playing on her lips. Brenda smiled as Sharon's lips found their purchase on her own.

She turned and curled into Sharon's body. "I had fun last night."

"Me too," Sharon agreed

"We work well together. Better than when we actually _did _work together."

Sharon hummed in agreement and moved her hand behind Brenda's form brushing her hand down Brenda's back and towards her thigh, then pulling Brenda's leg over hers. "You know, you don't have to go back to your husband just yet. Let him sweat it for the rest of the day," she grinned mischievously.

Brenda rolled suddenly to pin Sharon to the bed, straddling her waist. She nipped the side of Sharon's neck. "I think that's the best idea you've ever had, Cap'n."

The blonde's lips roamed around the captain's neck, starting below her left ear licking down the creamy column and settling with a deep bite in the hollow of her neck.

Sharon quickly regained control of their coupling and moved Brenda Leigh underneath her. She reached in to the drawers by her bed and Brenda could hear the unmistakable clanking of handcuffs. The older woman slipped one end around the headboard of her bed and the other over the slender wrist of Brenda-Leigh.

She was going to tease her. Tease the blonde in the same way she'd teased her – telling her she was leaving her husband then recanting, putting on the southern charm, her seductive way of eating ding-dongs, the way she bit her lip . . . No. Now was not the time to think of these things – maybe later when she was lonely, but not now while she had a beautiful and willing bed partner.

"Are you just going to spend the mornin' teasin' me?" the blonde asked.

"I'll tease you for as long as it takes to make me feel better. You played with my feelings, Brenda Leigh".

She loved it when Sharon called her that. Like she'd deliberately taken the time to say the extra syllables – to savour her name in her mouth. Brenda smiled.

"You know, I've always wondered what it would be like to have you scream my name as I thrust inside you," Sharon wasn't going to be soft. She teased the younger woman with her fingers, skimming along her folds, gently pressing in to her sensitive bundle of nerves as the blonde arched, never quite getting the strength she craved.

When she finally gave in, the brunette pushed two fingers forward in to the blonde and Brenda cried out at the overwhelming contact.

Sharon leant forward and kissed Brenda, their tongues dancing feverishly in contrast to the slow pace of the thrusts Sharon had instigated. The captain broke the kiss and buried her face in the blonde's neck.

Thrust. _For pulling rank to get your way._

Thrust. _For wearing hideous florals._

Thrust. _For coming to me when you're still married._

Thrust. _For leaving._

Brenda tried to take her wrist out of the handcuff. _Oh for heaven's sake! _She was sure she was blushing as she realised she still had a free hand. _This is why I needed that ding-dong._

The ex-chief wove her fingers into Sharon's hair, pulling until the brunette's neck was exposed. As well as she was able with the slow, rough thrusts, she latched on to her neck.

Sharon stopped and pushed herself up, fingers still buried deep inside her lover. She grinned, tugging at the blonde's free hand and pinning it back above her head.

"Now now, don't be so naughty, Brenda Leigh. I do like my rules."

"Sharon, please, I need . . . Just, please."

"Say it again," she demanded. "And ask nicely. It'll make a nice change".

"Please, Sharon. Please, I want to, to come. Please."

The older woman pulled her fingers out almost completely, then pushed all the way back in to the younger woman. With her free hand she led the blonde's pinned hand down to her own clit. She was going to have to work for her orgasm.

"Come on, Brenda Leigh. You've never wanted me around before". _If I'm the one losing out at the end of this, I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of getting your way._

The blonde worked her clit hard, while the brunette continued with the languid pace in which they'd started. She bucked her hips upward, encouraging the brunette to go as deep as possible. Her breathing became ragged. With a bite of her lower lip, _God, that thing she does with her lip, _the blonde came, her muscles clenching hard around Sharon's fingers, her name spilling forth like a prayer.

The brunette removed her fingers and made her way to 'her' side of the bed. _She can clean up after herself. I'm done with her messes. _Deftly, the brunette searched for her own release, guiding her fingers towards that one spot Brenda Leigh hadn't managed to find last night. _And I never got that scream._

* * *

As the blonde left the apartment, the older woman squeezed her eyes shut as tight as possible. There had been no discussion. No promises. Brenda Leigh Johnson was a complete machine – no missing bolts (apart from maybe the screws loose in her head), well-oiled and certainly not in need of Sharon Raydor to run it.

She was surplus to requirements.


End file.
